


The Sight of the Stars

by starryskeyess



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Shiro (Voltron), Established Relationship, M/M, Married Couple, Married Sheith, Oral Sex, Outdoor Sex, Post S7, Post-Canon, Swimming, Top Keith (Voltron), Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-26
Updated: 2021-02-26
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:27:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,442
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724159
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starryskeyess/pseuds/starryskeyess
Summary: After the war, Keith takes Shiro on short vacation, hiking and exploring a place on Earth left untouched by the Galra invasion.
Relationships: Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 42
Collections: Sheithlentines 2021





	The Sight of the Stars

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dr_paladiknight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dr_paladiknight/gifts).



> Happy Sheithlentines! This is my gift for Lee, who gave the lovely prompt of Sheith exploring the outdoors! I hope you like it! <3 
> 
> Thanks, as always, to the mods for organizing such a lovely event!

“Okay, can I open my eyes _now?”_

“Not yet.” 

Shiro pouts, huffing a discontented breath, but he doesn’t fight. He lets himself be guided slowly, guided only by Keith’s voice and the firm grip of his hands. His steps are uneven and shuffling against the metal of the walkway. Keith walks backwards, glancing behind himself to make sure he doesn’t lead them right off the edge. 

The cruiser is small, barely enough space for the two of them inside. The poof of Shiro’s forelock almost grazes the doorway as they step through, his bag smacking against the walls. The seams of his bag bulge in odd shapes, something that’s _definitively_ not clothes juts sharply out of one side. 

“Are we… on a ship?” Shiro asks, waiting surprisingly patiently. 

“Mmhm,” Keith answers, considering. “I guess you can open your eyes now.” 

Shiro’s gunmetal eyes focus on Keith immediately, warm and loving, before flitting around the small space.

“It’s… nice?” 

Keith barks a laugh, sliding past Shiro to close the door behind them. His husband has been overdue for a vacation for months, letting his stress and fatigue pile up until Keith had to act. With a little help from the MFE pilots, he’d scheduled both of them for a short break from all missions and communication. He’s kept all the details secret from Shiro so far, which was harder than he thought it would be. The effort of maintaining surprise has felt monumental as the date crept closer. 

The space is even more cramped without the light filtering in through the open door, but Keith’s never going to complain about close proximity to Shiro. He takes the duffel bag from Shiro’s limp grip with a grunt--the weight is surprising and Keith almost drops the bag in surprise.

“Stars, baby, what did you pack?” he asks. 

Shiro’s pout is indignant and _annoyingly_ cute. 

“You told me to be prepared for anything!”

“Yeah, and I should have realized that you’d pack everything in your quarters,” Keith’s words are teasing, and so is the kiss he drops against Shiro’s protruding lower lip. Shiro’s pout eases but before he can pull Keith in for a real kiss, Keith darts nimbly away. He ducks into the cockpit, swinging himself into the pilot’s seat. Turning back with a smirk, he winks at Shiro, beckoning him to the open seat next to him. 

Shiro settles in, long legs stretching out to fill the space under the dash. When his eyes flick back to Keith’s they’re bright, the promise of adventure sparking in their depths. 

-

The flight is short, and by the time Keith is setting the ship down in an open field, the midday sun is glowing orange and warm in the sky. Shiro had realized pretty quickly that they were headed for Earth, of all places, but he gave up trying to find out the purpose of their visit after Keith’s tight lipped responses. The entire landscape is beautiful, somehow untouched by the ravages of the Galra invasion. The meadow they touched down in is long, grass flecked with pastel wildflowers, dancing gently in the breeze. But Keith’s already seen it, and watching Shiro is far more captivating.

Shiro is turning slowly, taking in the sight--the lush mountains standing tall, snowy peaks reflecting the sun’s light in glittering patterns. An awed smile curls his lips and he looks up at Keith with a soft chuff of a laugh.

“Where are we?” he asks. 

“Earth,” Keith’s sarcastic reply is out of his mouth before he can stop it, but he _is_ quick enough to dodge Shiro’s playful swipe in retaliation.

“Clearly. I don’t recognize this landscape though, I don’t think I’ve ever been here,” Shiro explains. 

Keith scuffs at the moss with the toe of his boot, shrugging. “My dad and I came here a few times when I was a kid. Last time we were back on Earth I took a hoverbike ride to blow off steam and found it still standing.”

Shiro hums thoughtfully, standing back up. Keith can see the weight that he normally carries--the burden of leadership and overexertion--slowly start to lift from Shiro’s shoulders. Shiro’s gaze slides over the horizon, before returning to Keith. 

“This is beautiful. Thank you for showing me this, Keith,” Shiro says. His forehead wrinkles in confusion when Keith laughs.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.” 

Keith twines his fingers through Shiro’s, pulling him away from the ship, towards the forest, and their next adventure.

-

The air quality grows thin as they climb, but after months of recycled air in the vacuum of space, it’s refreshing. The path through the forest is well worn, marked with aged signs, their letters too faded to read. Nature has encroached on the manmade structures; vines cling to empty metal trash bins, gnarled tree roots curl and protrude from the trail. Their steps crack and echo through the quiet space. 

“I think Kosmo would like it here,” Shiro observes with a smile, “We could have brought him.”

The shake of Keith’s head is adamant in its intensity.

“Nope,” he laughs, “Last time I brought him out here he ate something that didn’t agree with him and it…. Wasn’t pretty. I was deep cleaning my ship for _weeks._ No adventures for him for a while.”

Shiro’s laugh bounces through the trees. Keith knows his fondness for the wolf rings through in his voice; in truth he thought about bringing him despite his affinity for eating things he shouldn’t. But today is about Shiro, and he wants to give Shiro all of the attention he deserves. Just the two of them.

The hike isn’t as steep as Keith remembers, but the air is thick and warm. Keith can feel his shirt clinging to his back with sweat. When they’re about halfway up he pulls Shiro to a halt with a gloved hand, curling long fingers around his forearm. He takes two waters out of his bag and passes one to Shiro, who accepts it with a grateful smile. Shiro’s more winded than Keith, wincing when Keith pokes him in the side.

“All that desk duty has you going soft, old man,” he teases.

“You watch out, or I’ll show you how _not_ soft I am,” Shiro responds, snagging Keith’s waist and yanking him close. Keith’s lips curl into a playful smile, letting himself be crushed to Shiro’s torso.

“I’m gonna take you up on that later.” 

He pulls Shiro down, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s slow and heated, a promise of things to come. Keith drags his tongue along the seam of Shiro’s lips, and they part for him easily; Shiro groans into Keith’s mouth when he licks into Shiro’s. Heat pools low in Keith’s gut, mingling with the heat of the late summer day. When Keith pulls away, he’s delighted by the slightly dazed look in Shiro’s eyes. He loves the way Shiro responds to Keith’s touch, to his mouth. It’s a powerful, heady feeling, affecting his husband this way. 

Keith lets his hand trail down the warm skin of Shiro’s arm before tangling their fingers together and pulling Shiro forward.

“Let’s go, Admiral,” he admonishes, with no force behind it, “no detours, we have a ways to go.” 

By the time they reach the summit, Keith can see beads of sweat trickling down the back of Shiro’s neck, and he knows he must look the same. He threw his hair into a sloppy ponytail half a mile back, unable to tolerate the way it was sticking to his skin. 

Keith can smell the lake as they get closer, the wet stone and cool water. The beams of buttery sunlight filtering through the canopy start to thicken, until they’re back under the open air. Keith can hear Shiro gasp audibly at the sight; a clear blue lake nestled between the mountains. The surface ripples gently, small waves made by a waterfall at the far end of the lake. 

Shiro drops his bag with a heavy thump, spinning slowly. The way he looks at Keith, loving and a little awed, soothes every ache Keith has accumulated along the hike. He sets his own bag with Shiro’s, quirking an eyebrow and nodding at the water. They strip quickly, stepping carefully over the smooth rocks in their bare feet. 

Shiro hisses against the cold when his toes dip into the water, but he keeps going until he’s waist-deep. Before Keith even gets his knees wet, Shiro’s diving under the water, emerging with a beatific smile and flinging water all over Keith when he shakes his head vigorously. The cold water almost stings where it hits Keith’s skin.

“You’re as bad as the wolf!” he cries, scooping up some water in his hand and flinging it in Shiro’s direction. Shiro dodges with a peal of laughter, diving closer until he can reach Keith to pull him in. Shiro’s loved to swim for as long as Keith has known him, and it’s comforting to know that hasn’t changed. 

Shiro finally coaxes Keith all the way into the water, until he submerges completely, letting his long hair fan out around him while he floats. Shiro swims out into the center of the lake, returning to Keith with a slow, lazy backstroke. Once he returns, Shiro floats too, eyes closed against the brilliant afternoon sun. Keith can see the lines on Shiro’s face that seem to live in permanence, around his eyes and his mouth, start to smooth and fade. Soon all that’s left are the crinkling signs of hours spent laughing and smiling. 

_This vacation was long overdue._

They stay in the water until their fingers are pruned and wrinkled, and Keith’s stomach is grumbling audibly. Sprawled out on towels and warming in the sunlight, Keith lays out a spread of picnic foods. Slices of meat and cheese, soft bread rolls baked fresh by Hunk, fruit and chocolate. The silence that settles between them is easy, comfortable. It’s the silence of two people who find joy in the _being._  


The sun dips below the horizon before too long, streaming gold and pink across the sky. The night is cool enough that they pull their clothes back on, but not cold. They lay shoulder to shoulder as the sky darkens, stars twinkling through the deep blue. Away from any of the cities being rebuilt, there’s no light to pollute the darkness, throwing the starry expanse into sharp relief.

“There’s this thing that Vincent Van Gogh said once,” Shiro says, almost to himself, “I know nothing with any certainty, but the sight of the stars makes me dream.”

Keith hums, listening. 

“I think I understand what he meant. Even after everything, even after being _up_ there, seeing everything we’ve seen… there’s still something so beautiful about the sight of the stars.”

Shiro chuckles softly, “That probably sounds silly, all things considered.”

“It doesn’t.”

The intensity in Keith’s voice makes Shiro turn to him, eyes wide and wondering.

“I get it,” Keith says, “Not about the stars, though. That’s how I feel when I look at you.”

With just the light of the moon and stars to see by, Keith barely catches the blush that blooms dark against Shiro’s cheeks, the bridge of his nose. He can only handle the weight of Keith’s gaze, the depth of the love there, for a few moments, and he turns his face back to the sky. Shiro’s lips curl.

“And you always tease me for being a sap,” he jokes.

But Keith is serious. He rolls, throwing a leg over Shiro’s hips until he’s straddling them, holding Shiro’s jaw with a tender grip. When he kisses Shiro, it’s unhurried and thorough, as if they could stay just like this forever. 

“I mean it,” Keith whispers between languid kisses, “You’re so beautiful, Shiro.”

Shiro whimpers into Keith’s mouth, so quietly Keith can only _feel_ it, and his fingers, flesh and metal alike, squeeze Keith’s hips. Shiro’s hands slide up Keith’s back, pulling him flush against Shiro’s body. The cool air kisses the skin exposed by their hands as they grind, slow and sweet, under the stars. Keith slides his own hands under Shiro’s shirt, shifting it up slowly. Shiro’s skin warms quickly under his touch.

Keith works Shiro’s shirt completely off, but when Shiro tries to sit up, to roll Keith beneath him or return the favor, Keith presses him back into the blanket, shaking his head. 

“It’s your turn to relax,” Keith reminds him, words muttered against Shiro’s jaw. Keith trails kisses to Shiro’s ear, tugging at it gently with his teeth. Shiro’s hands flex against Keith’s thighs in response, but he doesn’t try to sit up again. Shiro lets Keith trail kisses over his skin, following the path of his hands. Keith works thoroughly, digging his thumbs into the muscles of Shiro’s bicep, his chest, until Shiro’s lax and pliant under his touch. He leaves no part of Shiro untouched or unkissed. 

Keith strips them both, hands and mouth traveling over Shiro’s thighs and hips, before swallowing him down. Keith takes his time, swirling his tongue around the tip, bobbing slowly and taking Shiro deep. Shiro’s fingers bury themselves in Keith’s hair, clutching, but he lets Keith move as he pleases. It isn’t until Keith opens Shiro up with one finger, then two, that Shiro starts to writhe under his touch. 

The tension returns to Shiro’s muscles in the form of desperation and pleading. His hips jerk and twitch, and he pleads with Keith, tells him that he’s ready, that he wants Keith inside him. Keith doesn’t tease Shiro for long, just until Shiro’s stretched and ready to take him.

When Keith finally slides home in one smooth thrust, Shiro clutches and pulses around him, heat and warmth that feels like _home._ Keith rocks into Shiro’s welcoming body slowly, with snapping rolls of his hips. He can’t take his eyes off of Shiro’s face as he fucks him, draws moans from Shiro’s lips that echo through the clearing. Keith can see the stars in Shiro’s eyes, not just the reflection of the night sky but Keith’s whole universe, held in silver irises, glossy with pleasure. Keith watches Shiro’s face as Shiro hurtles over the edge, fingers digging into Keith’s forearms and hole clutching around him. 

Keith captures Shiro’s lips in a kiss as he follows, spilling inside Shiro’s wet heat. They stay tangled together as long as they can before pulling their clothes back on, curling up on one blanket and covering themselves with a second. Pressed together, relaxed and loved, they fall asleep, watched over and guarded by the glittering stars.


End file.
